fateandfortune | Just a kid from Brooklyn. [For Steve Rogers]

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Just a kid from Brooklyn. [For Steve Rogers]

Three months. That's all the longer Rogue had been in this world that wasn't hers, trying to scrape together a life out of nothing. She'd barely made a decent start of it when the world had tried to end on her with the Battle of New York. The city had been in chaos, was still trying to pick up the pieces two months later, and Rogue did all she could to help in her own way. In a small way.

Sure, there had been a few times she'd been tempted during the battle to run out into the thick of things and become her old self. Join the superheroes who had taken charge of the situation. But in the end she'd stayed back, because the reality was that without someone to borrow an active power from, she was just another normal person, and normal people just got others killed in fights like that.

In the weeks that followed the Battle, she'd taken to volunteering whenever she wasn't working. She'd joined an organization that worked with the elderly in various capacities, and they sent her where she was needed. Sometimes it was a nursing home to visit with the ones who didn't have families or who had simply been forgotten, sometimes to the retirement communities that put on events and could always use a few extra hands. Those were her big plans that Sunday - a party at a residential community, complete with cake, punch, music, and streamers. Lots of streamers. They'd really done the place up for the 4th of July holiday, which wasn't technically until Wednesday, with red, white, and blue all over the common room. It had taken hours for Rogue and a few others to get the decorations up and everything ready, but the smiles on the residents' faces as they were shepherded in by a fresh set of volunteers made every second worth it.

Laughing as goofy Mr. Samuels swept Mrs. Hawkins into something almost resembling a waltz, Rogue continued spooning out strawberries onto the whipped cream on top of the line of shortcakes. It felt strange to not be wearing gloves, even after months of having decent control over her mutation, but she'd still chosen a blue dress with long sleeves for the occasion. A simple dress, with sensible heels, so the sticker nametag reading "Marie" didn't look too terribly out of place.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Rogue couldn't imagine not needing caffeine in her daily routine. Before the war, she'd needed her morning, afternoon, and evening jolts just to get through the crazy days of teaching superpowered teenagers and the endless nights of missions with the X-Men. Now, she needed it to keep herself focused after night after night of restless sleep, being woken constantly by nightmares and even occasionally her own screaming. It was one of many reasons why she wasn't quite ready for a real relationship yet - how was she supposed to explain that to someone? And who would ever understand it even if she did?

...Steve might though, on some level. She wondered if he dreamt about the war, if the bad memories plagued him, or if anything kept him up at night at all. Perhaps not. He had been a soldier, after all, and she had been a prisoner. An experiment.

None of that mattered right now, though. They were new friends, forging what she hoped would be something meaningful and fun for the both of them, because they could sure as hell use it. And he had a birthday that she had to make wonderful.

"I promise that no gifts will be purchased, and I won't do anything that I don't absolutely want to," she assured him with a sincere, if slightly mischievous, smile. There was a lot of wiggle room in that promise, but he was just going to have to deal with it.

Coffee, like alcohol, just didn't affect him anymore, but unlike alcohol, Steve never missed the effects of coffee. He wasn't exactly a morning person, but waking up at dawn had been drilled into him during boot camp, and he needed less sleep than the average person anyway. He could go for several days with hardly any sleep, and longer than that if he could take naps now and then. He'd learned to sleep whenever he got the chance, because during a mission you never knew when you'd be needed in tip-top shape. He wouldn't consider most of his dreams as nightmares, because to him, nightmares woke you up in a cold sweat, panting and terrified. Most of his dreams made him wake up aching, and sometimes even sobbing over what he'd lost.

That wouldn't be attractive to anyone. But he wasn't planning on sharing his bed with anyone anytime soon, anyway. He was enjoying Marie's company, this new friendship they had, and while he was hoping maybe it could turn into something more, he was certainly in no rush. He recognized that he was still grieving; part of him wanted to just get over it and move on, but he knew he never really would. It was like Marie had said earlier; the ache never really went away. But when it lessened, maybe then...

Well. No use counting his chickens before they hatched. He just had to keep taking it one day at a time. And now, the next couple days were starting to look up.

Steve heard the vast amount of space her promise left open, and gave her an unimpressed look to show just what he thought of her clever wordplay. The effect was somewhat ruined when after only a few seconds he couldn't keep his lips from twitching in a smile. "Okay, fine. Not like I can stop you anyway," he gave her another pointed look, "so I'll just let you do what you want." He paused, taking a deep breath. "And no matter what, I'll be grateful." He smiled at her, to show he really didn't mind, no matter what he pretended.

Crying over what he'd lost would never be something for which Rogue would fault Steve. Never. She understood that pain all too well, and certainly shed her own fair share of tears at a great many things, some justified and others... Well, it was likely that no one who saw her burst into tears after a simple hug would ever count her as entirely sane, and she wouldn't blame them.

Rogue gave him a wide grin and reached over to clap him on the shoulder with her hand. "Wise decision, sugar," she informed him teasingly. "You'll go far with that kind of attitude, especially with me." Was that flirting he heard in those words? Oh, most definitely.

She was about to add something else when she spotted an elderly gentleman waving to get her attention, and the smile she gave Steve turned apologetic. "I'm being summoned," she explained. "Mr. Spalding always makes me promise to save him a dance, which turns into five." Walking around to the front of the table, she tossed over her shoulder before heading to her dance partner, "Don't you leave without saying goodbye."

Steve straightened a little, blushing at the flirtatious tone of her voice. But he reminded himself that half of their conversation so far had seemed flirtatious, to him at least. He didn't want to read too much into anything.

Flirting with him was all well and good, but if there was going to be any purpose behind it, Marie was going to need to be a lot less subtle. Steve still didn't think of himself as someone that any woman would seriously consider having a relationship with, and he wasn't the kinda guy to have casual dalliances. He certainly wouldn't consider having anything casual with a sweet, classy gal like her.

Steve smiled and nodded as she began to head toward the older gentleman who was indeed smiling and beckoning to her. "I'll still be here," he promised.

After Marie had turned away to speak with Mr. Spalding, taking his hand and beginning to dance, Steve let his shoulders slump. While he knew nowadays 'dancing' wasn't the pseudo-euphemism it had been in his time, this was the first time he'd felt like dancing since he'd woken up... He wanted to dance with Marie, but he still didn't know how, and he didn't want to make a complete fool out of himself in front of her. And even if she somehow miraculously didn't mind him stepping on her feet every five seconds, he didn't feel like having an elderly audience for it, either.

Straightening up various items on the table, finding busy-work while he wasn't needed for anything else, Steve occasionally glanced up toward the dance floor, unerringly finding Marie and Mr. Spalding every time. Maybe... Maybe they could dance when they met up on his birthday. That would be alright.

Unconsciously, Steve started humming as he straightened napkins. "I know why I waited, know why I've been blue. I've been waiting each day, for someone exactly like you..."

[the song playing that Steve's singing to. My Google history looks ridiculous searching all this oldies stuff, lol.]

It was Rogue's default conversational tactic to flirt with the other party, especially a handsome man like Steve, but she found herself slipping into it with real emotion behind the words, a hint of true purpose that she wasn't sure what to make of yet. They had only just met, and while she knew she was definitely interested in what might hopefully develop between them along the way, she was also nervous and a bit afraid. It had been a long time since she'd opened herself up to someone, and this seemed like it was far too soon, but there was something inside that was urging her onward and she just didn't know which to listen to.

So it was nice to have the distraction from her own thoughts as she danced with charming Mr. Spalding, who regaled her all the while with tales of his youth and the many broken hearts he'd left in his wake. She laughed and moved across the floor with him, but ever so often her attention would drift toward Steve, and she was sure that at least once he'd been looking her way too. It made her heart ache in a way she hadn't experienced in so many years.

She wanted to dance with Steve, to have a moment of closeness and innocent physical connection with this adorable, handsome man she'd just met. Rogue had always loved to dance, as it was one of the few times she was ever able to really be close to someone without her mutation causing too many problems. Fast dances, slow ones, traditional or just moving to the music, she didn't care. It was all equally wonderful in the thrill it gave her, followed by a deep sense of peace. That was the thing she wanted to share most with Steve - that feeling of belonging that she found on the dance floor. Because with all the things wrong with her life, it was the one place where she could still be just a normal girl.

Her one dance that was usually more like five was interrupted during the second song by a very persistent Mrs. Petrelli asking (though more demanding) to cut in. Rogue graciously agreed with a knowing look before retreating back to the refreshments table and a waiting Steve whose very presence had her smiling as she approached. "I was granted a reprieve," she announced quietly, as if sharing a very important secret. And then, "You know this song?"

[You win all the awards for your Google-fu, perfect song!]

When he'd met up with Natasha recently to fill out some SHIELD paperwork required for his 'new' life (well, really she'd hunted him down at his apartment and thrown the paperwork at him with a stern glare and the terse words "sign those, and stop making me play errand boy, Rogers."), she'd started in again with dating, meeting new people, and he'd explained that in his day, you went to dances and fairs to meet potential partners. Which of course had led to ribbing about 'dancing', but Steve had explained to her that he had two left feet, and it was worse now because he weighed over twice what he had before; he could easily break a woman's foot if he misjudged his footing. She'd given him an incredulous look and stated she'd seen him fight, and if he could pull off spins and footwork like that while being shot at, he could certainly do it to music.

He'd just shook his head, because she didn't seem to understand: fighting required all his attention, so he didn't think about how he was moving, besides 'dodging things that will hurt and/or kill me'. Dancing required no attention except on how he was moving and where he was placing his feet, and when. Plus, being that close to a pretty dame always shot his concentration all to hell. True, he'd never had a chance to dance with anyone after receiving the serum, but the serum hadn't done anything to change his personality or his reactions around women, so just because he had faster reflexes didn't really mean squat. Maybe he should take dancing lessons; they taught all kinds of dancing now, he could learn from a teacher who wouldn't take it personally if he stepped all over her.

Steve glanced up again just as Marie was returning, smiling and looking happy, which made him smile in return. He thought maybe she'd been looking right at him, and not just toward the table he was basically just standing watch over, at this point.

He glanced toward the dance floor and saw that indeed, feisty Mrs. Petrelli was sashaying a bit more than necessary while Mr. Spalding spun her around the floor. Marie's question caught him off guard, and he realized he was still humming, even murmuring the words to the song still playing. Blushing bright pink, he tried to figure out how someone his age would know this song. He finally decided on the broad truth. "Yeah, I-- I like this kind of music. It's got a lot of soul. I like newer stuff, too, but... I wasn't really ever exposed to it growing up, so I'm still figuring out what modern music I like. Just one more thing I need to catch up on." He sent her a shy, self-deprecating smile.

There was that adorable blush again, tinting his skin a wonderful shade of pink that made her want to tease him with a laugh and give him a hug; neither was something she could really do just yet though. When they knew each other better, certainly, but for now she still felt she had to be careful about how far she took her usual teasing repertoire.

"I love this music," she revealed, hoping to put him back at ease after the way he'd seem to scramble for an answer. "Jazz really does speak to the soul. I didn't appreciate it much growing up, I only really listened to your standard Top 40 radio tracks, but my husband really introduced me to it. He grew up in New Orleans and jazz was just a part of his everyday life. I never really understood it until we went to stay with his family for a few months. Every night we'd go out and listen to live music and it was just... It changed me."

Now it was her turn to blush, something she didn't do easily, and she shook her head before giving him a slightly worried look. "Sorry, I tend to sort of babble when I talk about that part of my life. Does it make you uncomfortable, me talking about my husband like that? It's okay for you to say if it does, I won't be upset." Not everyone was interested in hearing her stories about the late love of her life, and she didn't want to bother Steve with them if it did make him uncomfortable at all. She didn't think it would, he honestly didn't seem the type, but she still had to ask.

Edited 2016-05-19 06:25 (UTC)

Music was always something Steve enjoyed talking about - not so much now, when people wouldn't understand any of his references, and vice versa, but back when he was younger, listening to music was something he could do, and enjoy, without exerting himself. Even when he was too tired and listless to draw, he could still switch on the radio and find some big band to listen to. He loved learning what Marie thought of it, what she'd grown up listening to and how her tastes had changed through life experiences.

Steve's immediate reaction to her apology was his eyes widening in surprise, and shaking his head, both in denial and disbelief. "No--oh, no! No, it doesn't bother me. I-- we all have a past, right? Everyone's shaped by events, but we're also shaped by the people we knew. And..." he reached up to rub his neck self-consciously, wondering just how frank he could be. He didn't want to upset her, but she seemed alright with talking about her late husband, so... "I mean, he clearly had a big influence on you, of course. It's... It's nice to hear that you've got great memories like that. I don't mind at all, I like hearing about it."

He thought about adding that he'd had someone like that, too; not a romantic partner, but a best friend who was in almost every single memory he had since childhood, and certainly all of the best ones. But while Marie seemed able to talk about her husband with the fondness of the past, losing Bucky was still too fresh for Steve to be able to recall those happy times, without feeling guilty that he was still here, and Bucky wasn't. Maybe someday, when the wound wasn't so fresh, he'd be able to share some of those memories with her. He'd like to share that with her.

Steve's reaction to her question was sweet, reassuring, and so extraordinarily endearing. She was grateful to him for understanding, for being the sort of person who appreciated those memories for what they were. Remy's death had been tragic, but his life had been wonderful, and she'd finally gotten to a place where she could separate one from the other. To have someone to share that with was... incredible.

"Thank you, sugar," she told him softly. "That means a lot to me. You really are a very sweet person, you know that, Steve? I wish there were more people like you in the world." More people who thought beyond themselves, who cared for others and showed it in their own way.

She hoped that one day he would tell her about the people and events that had shaped his life. His family, friends, the people he'd served with in the war. The days on which he'd been lost and brought back to the world. All of it was important, and she wouldn't want him to skip a single detail - unless that was what he wanted. Because secrets were important too.

Steve ducked his head, embarrassed by the compliment, especially because of how sincere she was about it. "Uh, thanks," he uttered, rubbing his neck. He knew he was blushing again, and worse, had no idea what to say. He'd just been being honest, he wasn't trying to be sweet or tell her what he thought she wanted to hear.

He was trying to think of what else to say, when an elderly gentleman stopped at the table and stared at the two of them intently. Steve turned his head, and while he didn't know the man's name, he realized he did recognize him, from a café he'd been at a few months previously. The man leaned in a little more, and in a faux whisper said "This time, ask--for--her number!"

Steve's face heated up more, but in a fit of mischievousness, he reached into his pocket and pulled out Marie's card and held it up for the man to see. "Thanks, got it covered." The man squinted, then nodded in satisfaction before grabbing a piece of cake and some punch.

Steve turned back to Marie and gave a small smile. "Sorry. He, uh--he tried telling me I shoulda asked for a waitress's number a while ago. Apparently she was flirting with me. It's--I didn't mean to imply that we're-- I just-- I was trying to be funny?"

[so I went to see Cap3 tonight, finally. Still processing, but I felt Stan should get a cameo in this. He deserves all the cameos.]

Sweet and adorable. With everything else thrown in, he seemed damn near perfect. There had to be a flaw in there somewhere, some horrible little thing that would bug her to no end, but for now she just wasn't seeing it. Or maybe she was and that blush was just distracting her from noticing.

Rogue watched the interaction with the elderly man with great interest, picking up that the two recognized each other, and she couldn't stop the grin that sprung up at the not so subtle urging, though she did try to politely cover it with a hand, at least.

"You succeeded," she informed him with a grin, dropping her hand and leaning over the table to move another plate of cake into the now vacant spot. "I'm guessing you're not used to people flirting with you, huh, sugar?" she asked gently. "Seeing as how you didn't notice when that waitress did it. Unless you were just really distracted that day."

[I'm glad you finally got to see it! I saw it two weeks ago and spent half the movie thinking about how much I wanted to RP reactions to everything. There's so much juicy material. And yes, Stan does deserve all the cameos; he's wonderful in each and every one. :D ]

He was relieved that Marie wasn't upset or offended at his obfuscation. He shrugged and rolled his eyes at her question, not even trying to hide his smile, though it was more at her laughter and teasing than anything. "No, no. You probably have to hit me over the head to make me realize someone's flirting with me, and not just being nice. Nooooot used to women flirting with me."

He supposed that needed a little explanation. "I uh... went through a growth spurt, a while back. Pretty much right before I joined the Army, actually." More like because he'd joined the Army, but still. "So nobody ever flirted with shrimpy, skin-and-bones Steve." He tried recalling more of that afternoon. "I was sketching, I think, that day. So I was kinda off in my head, but... I still wouldn't have realized the waitress was being anything more than just friendly and attentive."

Flirting with him really was a lost cause. Especially if there was real meaning behind it, because he was always second-guessing his assumptions. He hoped, maybe, that a little of Marie's flirting was more than just second nature; that eventually, it might lead to something more. But at this point, he wouldn't dare assume it, and he hoped she understood that she'd probably end up making the first move, otherwise they'd be in this polite, flirtatious teasing stage until he really was 90 years old.

[I seriously STILL have no idea how I feel about it! Besides happy that Steve didn't die. Maybe the movie actually broke my feels. Except for Steve--still have all the Steve feels.]

The fact that he wasn't used to people flirting with him honestly just made her want to do it even more. Play a sort of game: Does Steve realize he's being flirted with? Not maliciously, of course, but because there was the potential for some actual purpose behind her flirting.

Hearing him dance around his secrets and try to spin a coherent story honestly made her heart ache for him. He seemed to be trying so hard to share things with her, but none of it was easy when he didn't know that she knew. If they weren't surrounded by a room full of people, she might have confessed it to him right then and there, but now just wasn't the right time.

She could share something of herself with him, though. Her own danced around secret. "When I was younger, fresh out of high school, I was in a place, emotionally and physically, where I didn't believe when someone expressed any sort of romantic interest in me," she confided quietly, watching Steve with something akin to cautious hesitation in her expression. "I was so worn down by guys flirting with me and then finding out more about me and running away so fast it was like their heels were on fire. Or they'd stay interested for a little while, but eventually decide I was more trouble than I was worth. It took my husband years to convince me that he was really serious."

She forced a smile then, but her laugh was genuine, even if the humor behind it was a little self-deprecating. "So you don't notice when there's flirting and I end up thinking people aren't sincere or are just gonna run scared. Aren't we a pair?"

[I'm definitely not done processing it yet, and it's been two weeks. Very glad that Steve didn't die, I was so worried about it, and I just want to see what happens next. Not a year or two later, right after. Because poor Steve.]

Maybe, if she flirted with him enough, and intensely enough, he'd build up his nerve to do something about it, eventually, anyway. At the very least, he might try flirting back. Although he still wasn't sure just what flirting entailed, so it might end up being a game of double-entendre chicken. Who would give in first? Probably not Steve, because he'd never be quite sure if he was reading the signs right, but he wouldn't quit first either, because he was very stubborn like that.

He listened to her story, and like his own, he heard a lot of blank spaces, things being left out and obscured. He wondered just what could have been happening in her life that anyone would think she wasn't worth it.

Mentally bracing himself, Steve decided to try just a little flirting of his own. "I can't imagine any guy getting to know you and deciding you weren't worth all the trouble in the world." The words were just as sincere, but he added a little bit of flirtation into his tone to emphasize his inherent suggestion. He kind of instantly regretted it, though--what if he came on too strong? He always worried that if he suddenly tried flirting with someone, she'd decide that was all he was about.

Deciding to try and lighten the mood a little, he grabbed two fresh punch glasses, handing one to Marie before raising his own in a mock toast. "We are quite a pair. I say we stick together, for both our sakes."

It would be the best game of chicken she'd ever play if they did wind up in that holding pattern. Rogue would be the one to give in first, she only had so much patience when it came to waiting for things to happen, but she was stubborn enough to stand her ground and give as good as she got. A game like that might be good for the both of them.

But he was downright wonderful at flirting, even if he didn't know it. Once the words left his mouth, she just stared at him for a moment, wondering if he could possibly understand just how much that sentiment meant to her. And then he was handing her that glass of punch and she found herself raising her own to meet that toast, a bright smile blooming on her face.

"I think that's a fantastic idea," she agreed with her own healthy dose of flirtation. "I can't imagine anyone better suited for this partnership."

This... Steve could definitely get used to this. Through this entire day, no matter what kind of mood he was in (and it had been an emotional roller coaster of a day), Marie had been nothing but sweet and understanding. He couldn't ask for a better day, or a better person to meet.

He ducked his head and grinned when she flirted back. He kept telling himself that was how she treated everyone - he'd seen her speaking flirtatiously with the residents of the party - but... well, in light of their current conversation, he felt justified in thinking this... might be flirting with intent. Maybe just a little intent, but he was pretty sure it was there, all the same.

He still had a lot of issues to work through, he knew that. And he certainly didn't want to burden anyone unsuspecting with that, of course. But maybe, if she didn't distance herself after he told her who he really was... maybe they could build something on this new friendship, something more. It had taken him a long while to really understand that 'misery shared is misery halved', but today had certainly proved it to him again.

He also was starting to understand what couples meant when they spoke about meeting and instantly 'clicking'. That's certainly how he felt now.

Feeling bold, Steve touched his punch cup to hers and said, "To new partnerships." And then, since she hadn't seemed to mind his last overture -- he winked before taking a sip.

Having someone to talk to who wasn't expecting anything from her was so comforting that she couldn't be anything but nice to Steve, and for Rogue that meant trying to be understanding of what someone else was going through. It was how she'd always been, prioritizing others and their well-being and happiness over her own, and that included offering support and kindness in interactions such as these. With Steve, it was easier simply because she liked him.

She liked him. The intent was there, and if they hadn't already made plans to see each other again, she would have been asking him out that very second. Because she wanted to spend more time with him, get to know him, and help him learn to navigate this new life he'd been thrust into.

Steve wasn't the only one with issues in their partnership. It was going to be a long time before Rogue would be able to work through all of her grief and anger over what had happened to her, and learn to manage the PTSD that could be utterly crippling at times. Dealing with that wasn't something she would wish on any normal person, but Steve... His life was just as strange and complicated as hers was, and so maybe he really would think she was worth the trouble.

The wink earned him another peel of giggles, clearly continuing to flirt with him rather than laughing at his gesture. It was cute, and she hoped he would do it again in the future. Soon.

"So, partner," she started once she'd calmed a bit and had been able to sip her own punch, "where are the best places to catch these fireworks? I've never seen them in the city before."

Laughing wasn't quite what he'd intended with the gesture, but he couldn't help but grin anyway. Marie had an infectious laugh, and he knew -- well, she was laughing at him, but the way friends did, it wasn't malicious or snide like it would have been from women before. He wanted to make her laugh, all the time.

"I'm not entirely sure," he admitted. "We used to go down to the river--to the Brooklyn Bridge--and watch them, that was always the best view. Not sure if they're still setting them off down there, though. Otherwise, there's roof access at my apartment, we could watch from there."

Once again, it was only after he'd made a perfectly innocent comment that Steve realized how it would sound. He'd basically just invited her to his apartment at the end of the night. His eyes widened in slight panic, but unlike previously, he didn't open his mouth and start apologizing. He'd meant exactly what he'd said. And if she read more into it than he'd intended... well, then he would apologize. Maybe. If she wasn't agreeable to the unintended implication...

This. This was exactly why he didn't flirt. It was filled with landmines and innuendos and how did you ever know if a comment was innocent or if 'fondue' really meant something else?

[My friend Google informs me that, as of last year, fireworks can best be seen from the Brooklyn Bridge. Let's pretend it's a long-held tradition that Steve's familiar with.]

It felt so good to laugh, really laugh, at anything. For years, her life had been nothing but pain and sadness, but now she was finally having the chance to do things like make friends and help people again. If Steve wanted to bring more laughter into her days, she wasn't about to stop him from trying.

The Brooklyn Bridge. Now that he said it, she vaguely remembered hearing about it from someone who'd mentioned the upcoming fireworks display. She was trying to recall what they'd said about the best places to watch the show when he mentioned his apartment, and she saw the panic that tinged his expression. Despite how it sounded, she knew he hadn't meant it that way, it just didn't seem his style - though she really wasn't against any of the possible implications of that invitation. She just didn't think that was what he'd intended. But if it was...

"Watching the fireworks from a roof actually sounds kind of nice," she offered with a hopeful smile. "I wouldn't mind that at all, if going to the river didn't work out."

Maybe, depending on how the rest of their day went, Steve would invite Marie to his apartment after the fireworks for a nightcap. Nothing more would be intended, but he'd learned early on that to be successful, a strategy needed to be flexible. So if something ended up happening, so be it. He was good at playing things by ear.

He smiled in relief, both that she'd accepted and seemed to take the invitation at face value. There might have been a small kernel of disappointment in there, but he firmly squashed it down. They'd just met, and they'd already established that neither one of them was willing to play fast and loose.

"Might be easier from there, anyway," he admitted. "I'm not really sure how crowded the bridge is gonna be. I haven't been to a fireworks display in..." he made a face. "Well, a really long time." Even back when he'd been a kid, it had been kind of crowded. He could only imagine what it would be like, nowadays.

Part of Rogue wanted to rush into things, to take it fast and heavy and throw caution right out the window. But she understood that was her loneliness talking, her desperation for companionship, and she knew it was something she would regret afterward, especially if it were with Steve. He deserved so much better than that, and if she had any chance at all of having something real and true with him, then there was no way in hell that she would do anything to jeopardize that.

"Sometimes being around other people can be nice," she offered, trying to make sure he understood that it was his decision, but she would really be fine with either option. "Other times, it can be a bit much. This day's gonna be all about you, sugar, so you should decide what you'd rather have. So long as you're there to keep me company, I won't mind wherever we end up."

Steve shrugged, glancing away, his eyes drawn to the residents of the party and the volunteers milling around, chatting in small groups or standing alone but attentive. "It depends," he finally said. "I actually enjoy being around people, but lately it's been... a little much." He didn't get into details, but he thought she might understand anyway. It wasn't just that crowds made him nervous because anyone could jump out and attack him (although there was that aspect, as well), but crowds made him feel lonelier, lately. He would catch himself glancing around, looking for a familiar face, and be struck again with the realization that he was completely alone. It was the utterly mundane that seemed to trip him up so often these days.

"I guess we'll just see how it goes. My apartment's not too far from the bridge, anyway. If it's too crowded, we can head back and not miss anything." Either option sounded good to him, right now. The roof would be less crowded, a quiet spot where they could chat without being overheard. But on the bridge they could have the anonymity of the crowd; just another couple of people, there to watch the fireworks. That'd be nice, too.

She understood better than he could possibly know. Rogue had always loved being around other people, though she'd usually had to stay at the edge of crowds for fear of harming anyone with her powers. Now, though, she wasn't at all sure how she would fare in a crowded space - it was good to be reminded that this world was alive, but at the same time she might be overcome by the memories of death from her own world. Things like that popped up all the time when she least expected it, and while Steve longed for familiar faces, she almost dreaded them, because there was always the chance of it being the face of someone who had died in her world and didn't know her in this one.

"Playing it by ear sounds good to me," she agreed easily, glad they had the options to be able to do so. It would be better that way; they wouldn't have to worry about things being too difficult or stressful on what was supposed to be a fun, relaxing day.

Just as Steve opened his mouth to say something else, there was a loud clap from the middle of the room. He looked over to see Todd standing there, grinning happily. Todd was basically in charge, and possibly the only volunteer that Steve had met whom he didn't really like. The guy was 22, and acted like he'd single-handedly invented volunteering. He was fond of giving orders and wording them like they were suggestions. He was also rather condescending to the elderly participants, which irked Steve on several levels. Just because they were 80 didn't mean they'd suddenly become idiots.

"Alright everybody! I hope we all had a great time today! Party's kinda winding down, so why don't we all gather our things and start heading out? Let's give a big round of applause to our volunteers, who did such a lovely job setting everything up!"

Steve smiled as everyone started applauding, before muttering to himself "At least he didn't take credit for single-handedly putting the whole thing together."

Then he realized Marie was still standing close enough beside him that she'd probably heard, and for probably the fiftieth time that day, started blushing.

It took a hell of a lot of effort for Rogue to not roll her eyes when Todd the Dictator took up his self-appointed role of party pooper and ended things. It always went this way, and as much as she respected the position he held, she had very little respect for him as a person after she'd seen how he treated the elderly patrons they were supposed to be helping.

She would have made her own muttered comment had Steve not beat her to it, and at that blush she just grinned like an idiot. "That's because the last time he tried that, he got a quick kick to the shin by our favorite feisty lady," she whispered, leaning in close so he'd be able to hear. Straightening up again, she added in a more normal voice, "I'd better get started on the tear-down before Todd starts complaining on how slow we are."

They had to get all the decorations down and either disposed of or stored away in their plastic tubs, and the leftover food needed to be packed away as well. It was a lot to do, but with everyone pitching in, it wouldn't take long.

Edited 2016-05-22 06:49 (UTC)

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;-; Steve feels

death by so many feels!

Stan Lee cameo!!

Haha, perfect! ♥

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